


D&D - Surprises

by rprambles



Series: Moe Dulosk [2]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Dealing with Bullies, Other, Racism, Reunions, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 02:50:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20922950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rprambles/pseuds/rprambles
Summary: Moe's terrible with people, but a new friend finds that endearing.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moe's terrible with people, but a new friend finds that endearing.

"Watch the store for me, Moe."

Alarm shoots through him. He snaps around to stare at Perren. "What?"

"I've got to go talk to the mill, I'll be back."

"Can't you... close up?"

"I'll only be an hour! You'll be fine."

He really really doubts that. But Perren has already put on his jacket and has a foot out the door, so Moe lets it go. Maybe he'll realize his mistake when he comes back and found nothing had been sold because Moe can't talk to people. 

Moe knows he can't because he's tried. Several times. It always ends horribly awkward for everyone involved. But he can't not talk to people either. He's tried that too and it's even worse. So he keeps vigil in the workshop. It's a quiet market day at least, most people more interested in the bakery up the road. Moe tries to focus on his work while listening for footsteps. It kind of works, giving him a second to set down his tools when a customer comes in. The human pauses at the sight of him. "Oh. Ah, good morning."

"Morning."

"Is this your shop?"

"Perren's. He's stepped out, I'm his apprentice."

The human doesn't quite frown. "I see. Is he, ah... I was told there was an _elven_ carver here."

Oh. Joy. Moe nods. "Perren."

"He's out then. Alright, I'll, ah, come by later." And off he goes, a little quicker than necessary.

Moe takes a breath and sits back down. That's the other problem when he talks to people. At least he didn't make a scene about it, that had happened more than once. Fucking racial bigots. They should wear signs. That makes him chuckle and he picks out a fresh slab of wood, laying over a sheet of parchment. He writes out the letters before carefully carving them into the wood.

More footsteps. Moe doesn't stand up this time, but he does turn. An elf steps in, slender ears poking out of their curly dark hair. Their amber eyes look over the pieces on display, eventually coming to him, and they smile. "Hello there."

"Morning."

"Is this all your work?"

Moe shakes his head. He stands up and points out the section where his work is set out. It's not quite up to Perren's quality - not yet. But they look intently at each piece. They keep their hands to themselves, which Moe appreciates.

A knock pulls his attention. Wes smiles up at him and holds up a wrapped bundle. "'Lo, Moe. Pa got those chisels finished for you."

Moe smiles and takes the bundle, handing over a little sack of coin. He presses an extra silver into the halfling boy's hand with a wink. Wes grins. "Thanks!"

As he scampers off, Moe hears the elf say, "What's this?"

He turns and grimaces. They've wandered over to his workstation, looking over the half-carved slab. "Uh, that's... not finished." Not that he could sell it anyway, but still.

"I am a fucking-" they snort, grinning. "I am a fucking racial bigot?" They step back as he hurries over, covering it with a cloth. "Did someone order this?"

Moe ignores the heat in his face. "No."

"A personal admittance?"

"No!" Anger flares over his embarrassment. "An asshole came in here and didn't like that there was a tiefling running the store."

"A gift for him then."

"Something like that." He folds his arms and takes a breath. "Is there something you want?"

That came out harsher than he meant it, but they don't shrink back, still smiling. "I haven't decided yet." They walk back out to the displays and Moe is relieved to see Perren returning. "See? I told you I wouldn't be long, and it didn't kill you."

Moe huffs and sits down at his station again. Perren easily strikes up a conversation with the elf; Moe only half-listens.

"...new in town?"

"I am, yes. It's a charming place."

"Thank you, we're quite fond of it. Will you be staying long?"

"If I can find a nice tavern, perhaps."

"Queen and Cat." The words are out before Moe can think to stop himself.

He can feel the elf's gaze on him again. "Pardon?"

Well shit. "...The Queen and Cat. Best tavern in town."

Perren chuckles. "You say that because your mothers run it. Though, to be fair, he's not wrong. Agnes and Nora run a top notch establishment."

"Thank you both."

Moe raises a hand, not looking up from his work. He jumps a little when Perren claps him on the back. "See?" The elven man grins. "Not so terrible."

Moe rolls his eyes and keeps carving.

  


* * *

  


He sees them again in the tavern, through the doorway from the kitchens. They're seated at the bar, chatting with Agnes. He hears his mom laughing and smiles, refocusing on the dishes.

The tavern work keeps everyone busy late into the night, until they shoo out the last of the drunkards. He shoos Nora and Agnes upstairs next, with a promise that he will finish tidying the bar. Teresa, the evening barmaid, goes around clearing out empty tables.

"Once you've got all that in the sink, go on home, Teresa," Moe tells her.

She smiles, exhaustion lifting a little. "Thanks, Moe."

He nods to her as she leaves. Leaving just him and a quiet tavern room.

"That was very kind of you."

And an elf. He glances over at them and shrugs, continuing to wipe down the counter.

They walk up and perch on one of the stools, amber gaze following him. "May I ask your name?"

He pauses and meets their eyes. "...Moe. Moe Dulosk."

They smile. "I am Epherith. I was surprised to see you working here as well.”

“I keep busy.”

“Quite a feat in such a quiet town. Do you hate to be bored?”

Moe shrugs. “Do you…” he pauses, catching himself. “Can I get you anything?”

Epherith looks at him for a moment. “Am I bothering you?”

He shakes his head. “I’m not good with people.”

“Ah. Neither am I. I can feign it for a time, but… there is always a disconnect. But I’m glad I don’t bother you.” They smile. “And to answer your question, I am a bit hungry.”

“Anything special?”

“Whatever you have ready is fine.”

Moe goes into the kitchen and makes up a plate of cheese and dried meats. He pours out a glass of wine for them, then returns to his work. Epherith watches while they eat. Occasionally they ask a question, about the tavern, or something he’s doing. His answers are short, but they don’t seem to mind. Eventually they hop off the stool. “Thank you, Moe.”

He nods to them. “Good night, Epherith.”

  


* * *

  


They stay for a while, and evening conversations become part of Moe’s routine. Wake early, train with the militia, work at the woodshop, come home and help with the inn, talk to Epherith. After their third conversation he asks to call them Ephe. They smile, as if the thought is amusing, and allow it. They’re happy to talk with his mothers when they’re around, but Moe gets the feeling Ephe prefers his company.

It’s kind of nice.

Perren’s left him to watch the shop again a week later, ignoring his weak protests once more. When footsteps approach he’s relieved to see Ephe instead of… anyone else, really. “Hello, Moe.”

“Decide on something you want?”

“Yes. I’d like to watch you work.”

He blinks. “Oh. Uh… sure.” 

They perch on the extra stool he brings out, tilting their head at the unfinished piece. “What is this?”

“Going to be a new table for the temple. Some drunks fell on it a couple weeks ago.” He sits down and picks up his tools. “What I was working on before that sign you saw.”

They grin. “Did you finish it?”

“Not yet. Personal projects don’t usually pay.” Moe smirks at their soft laugh, then sets to work. 

Ephe watches quietly. They keep their hands in their lap and keep an eye out for when someone enters the shop. Which is thankfully few. After a while they ask, “Do you often run the shop by yourself?”

“About once a week. Perren’s trying to help me be better at… people.”

“It’s kind of him to try.”

Moe nods. “Pointless, but he’s a good man.”

Another soft laugh, then they look up. “Oh, he’s back.”

He looks up as Perren enters the store, looking in a far worse mood than when he left. “Trouble?”

“Just the Woodsman’s guild. I’d love to know what I did to offend them.”

“You hired me,” Moe reminds dryly.

“What does that have to do with it?”

“Elford.”

Perren sighs. “Right. Those-” he spots Ephe then and quickly stops himself. “...people. Ah, hello.”

Ephe smiles. “Hello. Moe was kind enough to let me observe some of his work.”

“Making friends?” The elven man brightens.

“Thanks,” Moe mutters under his breath as he shoots Ephe a look. They just giggle.

“Well then, stay as long as you like. Let me know if you need anything.” Perren pats Moe on the shoulder before going to his own workspace, singing to himself. Moe just shakes his head. “What issue do the Elford have with you?” Ephe asks after a few moments.

“I’m a tiefling,” Moe says.

“Ah. ‘Fucking racist bigots’.”

He grins. “Exactly.”

  


* * *

  


Shattering glass yanks Moe out of his night-time routine. He snaps around; one of the windows is broken, a rock rolling to a stop on the floor. Drunken jeers carry through from outside.

Ephe frowns. “Rude.”

Moe scowls and heads for the door. “Wait here.”

Outside, he finds what he was expecting. A gaggle of drunken humans laughing and patting each other on the back. The leader of the band grins at him. “There he is! Demon of Red Larch hisself.”

His tail twitches. “What do you want, Loren?”

“Jus’ wanted t’ see if you were still breathin’. All the adventur’rs through town, none of ‘em stuck you yet?”

“They tend to be able to think for themselves. Not everyone has parents to bail them out when they’re being a dumbass.”

A grumble passes through the group. Loren’s grin takes an edge. “You think you’re tough, huh?”

“Tougher than you.”

“Come ‘ere and prove it then!”

Breaking Loren’s nose does sound satisfying. But he has better things to do. Sweeping up that glass, for instance. He turns to go back inside. “Sleep it off, Loren.”

“Hey, I’m talkin’ to you!”

A rock strikes his shoulder. Moe stops, tail twitching again.

“Get your ass down here, Dulosk.”

He turns back, gold eyes glaring at Loren. “Make me.”

Loren scowls. “Get him!”

Moe dodges the first one to come up the steps, slamming his elbow into their back. He kicks the next one in the chest; they go stumbling back into the one behind him, both falling into the dirt. His hooves click against the steps as he approaches Loren, cracking his knuckles. He’ll give the drunkard credit, he doesn’t back off.

He blocks the first punch. Loren overreaches on the second and Moe grabs his arm, turning and flipping him. The others have recovered, one hitting him hard in the jaw. Moe steps back quickly, deflecting the next blow before kicking into his side. A strong backhand knocks that one to the ground again.

An arm wraps tight around his throat and Moe struggles as he’s dragged back, trying to get his feet under him. “Got ‘im Loren!”

He drives his elbow back and their grip loosens as they grunt in pain. Moe kicks his leg out from under him for good measure. Loren is back on his feet and Moe punches him right in the face. He was right – the break of his nose is fucking _satisfying_.

Loren stumbles back, clutching his face. Moe dodges another punch from his buddy, but the second hits him hard in the gut. He doubles over and they leap on the opening, two grabbing his arms and holding him still. The third helps Loren up and he turns to Moe with a dark grin. Moe spits in his face. It earns him a solid punch to the face and he tastes blood.

“How tough are you now, demon?”

Moe holds his head high. “Took four of you. Pretty damn tough.”

Loren scowls and lays into him again. After the third hit the pain starts to blur together. Moe can’t focus on struggling, instead putting his energy into staying standing, keeping his head up. He will not give Loren the satisfaction.

Thunder cracks and suddenly Moe’s flat on his back, free from the thugs’ hold. He lays there and coughs for a moment, head ringing. 

“Leave.”

Is that…? He sits up a little, blinking to clear his vision. All the humans are on the ground, looking as dazed as he feels. Ephe stands on the steps to the inn. There’s something different about them, a presence that Moe hasn’t noticed before.

“Who th’ fuck?!”

“_Now_.”

The drunks pick themselves up as quickly as they can and bolt, tripping over each other in their haste. Ephe watches them go before approaching Moe, odd presence suddenly gone. “I’m sorry you got caught in that spell.”

“That’s fine. Thanks.” He takes their hand and gets to his feet, leaning against them when his head spins. They steady him and help him inside.

“What the-” He looks up to see his mothers in the stairwell. They hurry across the room, Agnes cupping his face gently. “Moe, what happened?”

“Loren Elford.”

Nora grimaces. “Oh gods, not him again.”

“That is it.” Agnes scowls. “I have had it, I am taking this up with the mayor.”

Moe points to the glass on the floor. “He broke a window.”

“Good, I can press charges for that too! If the Elfords can’t control their son, maybe a jail cell can!” 

“I’ll go fetch the guard. Moe, you get upstairs and clean up.” Nora pats his arm.

“Need to finish cleaning first-”

“We’ll take care of that. You look like a stiff wind will knock you over. D’you mind helping him, serah?” Nora looks to Ephe.

They smile. “Not at all.”

Moe knows better than to argue. He lets Ephe lead him upstairs, pointing out which room is his. They sit him down on the bed and fill a basin with water. “Didn’t know you were a wizard,” he mutters after a moment.

“Of a sort.” They smile again, a secret little smile. Moe can’t help staring for a moment. 

They dip a cloth in the water and start wiping away the blood, touch gentle. Moe sits still, watching their face. They’re very pretty. He’s noticed before, but there’s something different about seeing them up close. His gaze follows the curve of their cheek, dark skin catching the gold of the candlelight. They move to cleaning his knuckles; their hands are cold, but it’s not a bad feeling.

“Moe?”

He starts, heat rising in his face. Ephe tilts their head. “What are you thinking?”

“Nothing.” The lie’s out before he can catch it and he wants to kick himself for it.

They give him that smile again. “You’re a terrible liar.”

He huffs. “Yeah… do you really want to know?”

“I asked.”

“I’d like to kiss you, Ephe.”

Ephe smiles, cold fingers cupping his cheek. Moe closes his eyes when their lips meet his. For a second he can forget that his head’s still ringing and his chest aches. Everything is soft and cool. It’s nice.

  


* * *

  


They stay a bit longer. The nights after their talks are filled with shared kisses and sometimes more. Moe tell them about his dad, about his first mother that he never got a chance to know. They show him some of their magic, lights and fluffy snowflakes that melt without a trace.

He knows they won’t stay. Travelers never do, and neither of them have made any promises. He doesn’t think about it, enjoying Ephe’s company for as long as they’re here. Not that it makes goodbye any easier. 

He waits for them in the early morning when they leave. Ephe hugs him with a soft sigh. “I hope I’ll see you again, Moe.”

“Me too. If you ever come back through Red Larch, I’ll probably be here.”

They smile sadly. “Perhaps. Take care of yourself.”

He takes their hand and places a carved pendant in it, closing their fingers around it. “Safe travels, Ephe.”

They stare at the pendant for a moment and he thinks he sees the start of tears. But they smile again and kiss him one last time before heading out the door. Moe lets himself linger there until they’re lost in the morning fog. Then he shakes his head and shuts the door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year later Ephe reappears - in an unexpected way.

Moe can't sleep. He needs to sleep, they have a long walk back to Red Larch tomorrow. The cots are perfectly comfortable, better than a bedroll. But his tail keeps twitching in sync with the racing thoughts in his head. He sighs and rolls over onto his back. "Gods damn-" 

A dagger shoots over his head, hitting the cave wall before flickering out of existence. Moe freezes, slowly looking over to Ardan. The rogue is sprawled across his cot, arm flung out toward Moe. He didn’t even wake up.

Yeah, he's not sleeping.

He gets up slowly, careful to keep his steps soft so his hooves don't click against the stone. No need to wake anyone - or set off Ardan's reflexes again. He passes Lyvia and Ilthuryn easily enough, smiles at Nora snoring into Agnes' shoulder. He resists the urge to pet the silver-scaled wall as he goes to the bassinet to check on the kid. His kid. That's still terrifying.

The baby's sleeping soundly at least. He almost can't believe this is real, but there's the little nubs where horns will grow in, almost hidden under curly hair. No doubt there's a tail and hooved feet under all the blankets. Or maybe clawed feet?

He jumps a little when a hand touches his shoulder. The bulk of the dragon is gone and Ephe stands behind him. "Can't sleep?"

"Happens when the world turns upside down."

"You have had a tumultuous homecoming."

"That's a word for it."

A soft hum. "Not all bad, I hope."

"...no." Moe gently touches the line of scales along the baby's cheek. "Not all bad." He glances over his shoulder and smiles. "Good to see you again, I don't think I said that earlier."

"There were other things on your mind." They hug him from behind, fingers splayed over his chest. "I'm glad to see you too, Moe."

He leans back into them with a soft sigh. "...can't believe you're a fucking dragon." He smirks at their laugh. "Are you like a thousand years old or?"

"No, I am a hundred and seven. I tried not to lie to you."

"Just left out the 'I'm a big scaly lizard' part."

"I thought it might be best. Are you angry?"

Moe shakes his head. "Figured there was stuff you didn't tell me. Just never thought it was something that big." Literally.

They relax against him and he feels their breath on the back of his neck. "I'd planned to tell you on my next visit, but that was delayed."

He chuckles softly, smiling at the baby. "Yeah, I noticed. Didn't know if I'd see you again, especially after I left. Were you always right here?"

"Not always. My lair is a good ways from here, several months on foot. When I realized I was pregnant I made do with this place."

He looks around at the well furnished caverns. "Made do, huh?"

"What, you thought I'd be content to give birth in a bare cave? I have fucking standards."

He stifles his laugh a second too late and the baby gurgles, gold eyes opening to glare up at him. "Shit, sorry, little one." Ephe lets him go as he bends to pick up the baby. "Up we go. Shh, Papa's got you, s'okay."

Ephe moves to his side and gently pets the baby's hair. "I admit, I was worried you didn't want to be involved with our child."

"I do." He smiles as little hands pat at his face. "Wasn't planning on it, but I like kids. And I want to... much as it scares me, I'd like to be a dad. Just..." He hesitates, holding his child a little closer. "Don't want t' end up like my dad. Going off to take care of something and never coming back."

"You won't." Cold hands cup his face and he meets Ephe's gaze. "You're a good man, Moe. We will keep in touch, and if anything happens we will find each other."

"You sure about that?"

They smirk. "If you abandon our child now, I will eat you."

He chuckles and leans into their touch with a sigh, free hand covering theirs. "Missed you."

Ephe smiles and kisses him softly. The baby turns in Moe's hold and reaches for them, gurgling, and they smile. "Are you jealous, little one? Or just hungry?" They start untying their tunic. "Now that you're here, we should figure out a name."

"Surprised you didn't pick one out already."

"I wanted to wait. Call me sentimental."

As their tunic loosens he spots a familiar wooden pendant around their neck. "You, sentimental?"

"Stranger things have happened." They look pointedly at their child and smirk; Moe chuckles, carefully handing the babe over. "Let's sit down. We can discuss names and you can tell me where your adventures have taken you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so when I made Moe I rolled a lot of his backstory with the tables in Xanathar's Guide, and I got the 'a previous lover was a silver dragon'. I naturally thought this was hilarious and asked my DM if we could work it into the game. He agreed and came back with 'but what if they had a kid'. I love D&D so much.


End file.
